When the Mist Clears, You
by PrincessTverski
Summary: Lady Trevelyan falls mysteriously ill after a desire demon attack. Commander Cullen decides to help her recover. Three Parts. NSFW.
1. Chapter 1

**Mostly just me playing around with tropes (Sex Pollen, Sex or Die). I have the whole thing written, so I'll probably post the next chapter tomorrow or Friday. I hope you like it!**

 **Also, warning: dubcon. I don't personally think it is, but hey, stories are meant to be interpreted, so some people might feel that way (esp. with these tropes), and I wouldn't want anyone to feel uncomfortable.**

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Cullen lurched awake, his hand reaching for is sword as a messenger burst into his office. The hooded carrier drew up short when he saw the Commander at his desk, clearly still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. It wasn't in and of itself unusual for the runners to find the Commander asleep at his desk, but they all knew he was especially irritable when just woken.

Cullen glared and snapped, "Report!"

The messenger saluted, clearly trying not to tremble at Cullen's fierce tone. "Commander, Ser! Message from the Inquisitor's party at Redcliff. For your eyes only."

Cullen took the folded parchment and dismissed the man with a wave of his hand. Tearing open the seal, he scanned the four words written in what looked like a shaky version of Cassandra's hand.

 _Inquisitor injured. Come quickly_.

An unfamiliar tightness squeezed at his chest as an image of Inquisitor Trevelyan flashed through his mind. _Breathtakingly beautiful_. She was all full curves and throaty laugh with flashing green eyes that called the Fade to mind. Cullen could stare at her all day, and much to his embarrassment, had found himself doing just that during War Council meetings, wondering if her creamy skin was as soft as it looked.

He shook his head. He had harbored these _unworthy_ feelings for her since the moment they'd met, or nearly so. Something about Lady Trevelyan inspired his basest desires, and Cullen was fighting a losing battle to stay away from her. Surely a highborn noblewoman such as Elena Trevelyan would have no time for the likes of him.

Cullen glanced down at the note in his hand and instead saw his clenched fist. He carefully unwrinkled the parchment and re-read it. _Injured_. Maker's breath, what could possibly have happened to her? And why had Cassandra sent for him, of all people? Though his Templar training had taught him the basics of healing–enough, anyway, to staunch a wound on the battlefield–he was hardly the person to call when someone was injured.

But of course he would go to her; there was no question.

Tossing the note on his desk, he made for the stables, leaving his armor behind, and barking out orders to his officers to hold the Castle in his stead. With naught but his sword and a light pack of provisions, he galloped out into the night, his steed's hooves ringing on the stone drawbridge.

* * *

Cullen made the ride to Redcliff in half the time it usually took–stopping only to change horses or gulp down a few mouthfuls of food. He rode into the war-torn village around sunset the next day, and was immediately directed to the Inn when he asked an inconspicuous Inquisition soldier were he could find the Inquisitor's party.

Moments after he clattered into the Inn's courtyard, he leapt from the saddle and thrust his horse's reins at the stable boy. He was through the door in moments, eyes scanning the common room for a familiar face. Finally his gaze alighted on a motley cluster at the back of the room. Cassandra sat, stony faced and arms crossed over her chest, while Varric drained what looked like his tenth mug of ale. Dorian's face was ashen.

Cullen strode over to them, his heat pounding in time with the fall of his boots.

"Where is she?" He all but demanded.

"Commander, thank the Maker you're here," Cassandra said, waking from her reverie. She glanced at Dorian and Varric. "Perhaps we should take this to a private location."

Her companions nodded a began to gather up their things. Cullen squeezed the bridge of his nose. "What in the name of Andraste's asshole is going on?"

"We'll take you to her in just a moment," Dorian assured him, placing a heavy hand on Cullen's shoulder. "But we need to explain what happened first. Seeing her might be…shocking."

Cullen ground his teeth at the Mage's words. What the _hell_ was going on? His worry had only grown on his ride, and their secretive actions were only making him more nervous.

They made their way silently upstairs to a private dining room. Once the door was locked, Cullen turned to the others.

"Well?" He demanded.

They glanced at one another before Cassandra finally spoke. "Dorian, perhaps you should…"

Dorian nodded, and motioned for everyone to sit. "We were closing a rift nearby. Everything was going well–demons everywhere, lots of screaming, you know, the usual–"

At Cullen's hard glare, Dorian shook his head and continued. "She almost had the rift closed. We were all busy with a Pride Demon, and suddenly, we heard Elena scream." Dorian paused, swallowing hard. "A desire demon had snuck up on her–it takes a lot of concentration to close the rift, I think. Anyway, by the time we got to her, the demon had gotten her claws into Elena's side. Cassandra beheaded the thing, but I think…I think because the Inquisitor was in the process of closing the rift, something went _wrong_."

Cullen felt his hands curl into fists at his sides. _Wrong_? What did that mean? He cleared his throat, his mind spinning at the possible implications. "And?"

"Well, she was fine, nothing a health poultice wouldn't fix. Until night fell. It started with a fever, and then chills. She was shaking horribly, and we couldn't figure out what was wrong with her," Dorian continued. "So we brought her here. Somewhere between camp and the Inn, she started to…well… _writhe_ , I guess is the best way of putting it."

He stopped, and Cassandra and Varric shared a look. Cullen frowned, still not quite understanding what he was missing. "Well, what exactly's wrong with her?"

Cassandra cleared her throat and stood. "It might be easier if we showed you."

After a moment, Cullen nodded, and followed her to a door at the back of the room. This must be one of the Inn's suites–a common room leading to private bedchambers. Cassandra unlocked the door, swinging it open. Cullen squinted, his eyes adjusting to the gloom. He hissed in a breath, his body heating at the sight before him.

Elena lay across a large bed, half clothed and undulating against the sheets. Her hips bucked up and down, her chest jutting out as she ran her hands over her body, cupping her own breasts, tweaking her nipples, stroking between her legs.

She turned at the sound of their entry, her eyes glassy and unfocused. When she saw him, though, she gasped, and bit her lower lip, dragging it through her teeth.

" _Cullen_ " she whispered, her voice throaty and low.

"She's been asking for you since noon yesterday," Cassandra whispered. "Dorian thinks the Desire Demon envenomed her–she needs to, ah, get her desires out of her system before she can heal. Dorian thinks it would pass on it's own, but it would be a slow, possibly lethal process. Her best chance is for someone to, um, help her along."

Cullen stared, eyes wide in disbelief. "Are you telling me, Seeker Pentaghast, that you want me to…to… _fuck_ the Herald of Andraste back to sanity?"

Cassandra didn't flinch at his harsh language, instead she poked him in the chest as she spoke in a clear, commanding voice. "That's exactly what I'm telling you, Commander. She's been begging for you."

Cullen swallowed and glanced back at Elena where she lay sprawled. Her crimson hair was like a dark fan around her head in the low light, and he could feel his body responding to her. He bit back a curse–but it was only the Desire Demon venom making her crave him–could he truly do this to her? Take her when she was so out of her mind with lust?

"And Dorian is sure she might die if I don't…help?"

"Death, or excruciating pain," Dorian called from behind them.

Cullen frowned. The desire to help her, to _be_ with her, was strong, but he didn't want to take advantage of her in this state. Perhaps he could _alleviate_ her needs without servicing his own. His conscience felt less guilty at the thought.

Squaring his shoulders, Cullen nodded to the others. "Alright. I'll do it."

The relief on Cassandra's face was almost painful. With a resolute look back at the others in the room, Cullen stepped through into the bedchamber and closed the door behind him.

Elena looked up at him as he took a few tentative steps forward. A slow, sultry smile spread over her lips as she reached for him.

"Cullen," she whispered again. "I need you, Cullen. Will you stay with me?"

This close to her, he could see a thin sheen of sweat across her skin and her cheeks were flushed a feverish pink. After a moment's hesitation, he sat on the edge of the bed and took her hands between his own.

"Yes, Inquisitor. I'll stay with you until you're feeling better," his voice sounded formal and faraway, even to his own ears–he was going to pleasure this woman for hours, possibly days, and yet he still called her by her title.

Cullen wasn't quite sure what to think of himself at the moment.

Elena, however, seemed quite pleased with his response, and her smile widened at his words. Quicker than he thought possible in her state, she rose up on her knees and moved towards him, straddling his hips. Instinctively, Cullen wrapped his arms around her, holding upright. Slowly, she ran her fingers through his hair, stroking over his scalp and down to his neck, sending shivers down his spine. She brushed over his face, following the line of his jaw, up to the curve of his cheeks, before running her fingertips lightly down his scar and over his lips. Cullen took a sharp intake of breath, unaccustomed to being caressed and petted.

She leaned forward and put her lips at his ear, her soft breath tickling his skin, sending a flood of desire crashing through his body. "Touch me, Cullen. Put your hands on me, _please_."

His heart pounded in his chest, his cock going rock hard at her words. Maker's breath, this had to be some sort of torture designed especially for him–the woman he'd lusted after, all but begging for him to take her. But only because of a Desire Demon.

Elena began rocking her hips against his lap, her breath coming out in hard little pants, her breasts rubbing against his chest.

"Touch me, Cullen," she urged.

 _Well, a man only had so much discipline_. With a groan he tightened his arms around her, cupping the back of her neck in one large hand and twisted them to lay on the bed. She fell beneath him with a soft, excited gasp, her hips continuing their torturous, taunting rhythm. Maker's breath she felt good there, pinned between his hard body and the soft bed. Cullen stroked her cheek, reveling in it's softness. She arched her back, her full breasts thrusting towards his face. Cullen groaned at the sight. She wore only a loose white chemise, and he could see the hard buds of her nipples through the thin fabric. Another wave of powerful lust tore through him as he imagined sucking on them, licking and biting them until they ached.

Taking a deep breath, he tore his eyes away from her breasts. Cupping her face gently between his hands, he tipped her head towards him. He needed to say this, first. Though he didn't know if she would understand his reassurances, he hoped that whenever she came out of this state his words would comfort her.

"Elena, sweet, look at me," he commanded.

After a moment, her hazy gaze turned to him.

When he spoke, he did so in a low, deliberate voice, hoping she would understand what he was trying to communicate. "I'm going to take care of you, sweetheart, as long as it takes. As long as you want me here. I don't want you to worry about anything beyond this room. Not the future, not what the others are thinking, just focus on helping me get you better."

He held her gaze, hoping she understood him.

"Cullen," she panted. biting her lip, her hips still moving against his aching shaft. "Cullen, please."

 _Fuck._ The sight of her lying there, biting her lip and begging him was too much. With a moan, Cullen crashed his lips against hers. His kiss was savage, lips and teeth and tongue seeking her out, drinking down her soft cries of delight. Nearly a year of pent up longing and lust spilling out between them. She locked her legs around his waist and buried her fingers in his hair, her nails scoring over his scalp. He would give her what she needed, as many times as she needed it.

Tangling a fist into her bright curls, Cullen tilted her head to the side, exposing the long column of her neck. He kissed his way along her cheek, down her jaw, to trail down her elegant throat. Maker's mercy she tasted like honeysuckle and sunlight. He groaned, sucking her soft skin and laving it with his tongue. Elena bucked beneath him, riding his shaft through his trousers with wild abandon. He could feel the heat from her body, from between her thighs, tight against his cock and he wanted nothing more than to sink into her hot, willing body.

He bit her collarbone and she gasped as he rubbed his stubbled jaw against the delicate skin just above her lush breasts. Easing up above her, Cullen slowly unlaced the front of her chemise with trembling fingers, peeling the thin fabric away from her body until her breasts were bare before him. He groaned.

"Andraste's mercy but you're perfect," he whispered reverently as he took in the full swell of her breasts and the tight, dusky pink nipples.

She whimpered and arched her back, begging him with her body to touch her, to give into his desires. Cullen cupped her breasts; they filled his hands perfectly, her full, soft flesh spilling out through his fingers. Keeping his eyes locked on hers, he bent his head, and sucked one pouty nipple into his mouth.

His eyes closed and he moaned around the tight little bud at her taste. Sucking hard, her nails raked down his back as he raked his teeth over it.

"Cullen, oh _Cullen_ , please _more_ ," she begged, her hands traveling down his body, stroking his back until she pulled his shirt from his trousers.

He broke away from her perfect breasts long enough for her yank his shirt over his head, and then he was back, cupping them both in his hands, pressing them together so he could alternate his sucking from one pert peak to the other. Dimly, he was aware of her exploring his bare chest and back, of her delicate fingers stroking his skin and tracing the lines of his muscles and old scars. Her touch was light and curious, as if she wanted to know every inch of him just as badly as he wanted to know her.

When he had kissed and licked and bit every inch of her breasts, and she was writhing against him with need, Cullen began kissing her lower, to her slim waist and flared hips. He tasted her navel, her hipbones, until he hovered over the soft thatch of red curls between her legs. He glanced up at her and nearly came undone from the rapturous look of anticipation on her lovely face. Wrapping his hands around her thighs, Cullen anchored her hips to the bed, and slowly lowered his mouth to her. He inhaled deeply, taking in her sweet, feminine scent, his cock throbbing with want.

Cullen pressed a kiss to her, his caress chaste save for where his lips touched her body. She nearly jolted off of the bed at the contact, a throaty, needy moan falling from her lips. She was soaking wet, desire coating her thighs; he carefully began to lap it up, cleaning her soft skin, never quite touching her where she wanted it the most. If he could make her make such a noise from only a small kiss, what could he do after he'd stoked her lust?

Finally, after her hips began to buck in protest, he dragged his tongue over her entrance is a slow, firm caress. Their moans echoed off the walls, his at the taste of her body's honey, her, no doubt, in relief at his touch. He lapped at her again, stroking her flesh, exploring her entrance with his tongue and teeth and lips. She was so sensitive it was maddening; each touch of his tongue to her brought another low moan or gasp. Cullen began licking her in earnest, his tongue delving into her tight heat as he rolled his hips against the mattress, desperate for friction against his swollen shaft.

Elena's breath began to come in sharp pants, and her legs shook around his head. He knew she was close, and he licked his tongue up the length of her, wrapping his lips around her aching little clit. With a firm suck, she screamed, and Cullen pressed one finger into her entrance, a wave of lust crashing over him so powerful he was nearly blinded by it as her body clenched around him, pulling his digit deep inside. He continued to lick her, to suck at her clit as she gripped his hair, tugging his face closer to her body, her hips rolling in desperation towards his mouth.

Words of nonsense spilled from her lips, pleas for him to continue, praise for him, words of passion and desire. What he wouldn't give to hear her say such things to him all the time–for her to be his woman in truth.

After her grip on his hair lessened, and her legs stopped shaking, Cullen lifted his head, surveying her face with a deep, masculine pride filling his chest. Elena lay back against the bed, replete and flushed, her breasts quivering as she gasped for breath. He rose up on this knees and ran his hands over her body, marveling at the softness of her skin under his rough palms.

"How are you, sweetheart?" He whispered, flicking his thumbs over her nipples.

Her eyes opened at his words and another sultry smile spread across her red lips. "More," she breathed. "I want more."

Cullen couldn't stop his answering grin–he wanted nothing more than to give her everything she desired.

Elena rose up to meet him, gripping his shoulders and pulling him towards her, capturing his lips in a fierce kiss. Her bare breasts pressed against his naked chest as he crushed her to his body, wrapping her in his arms and bringing her close. She ran her hands down his back, over his hips until her deft fingers began working the laces of his breeches.

"What are you doing?" he murmured against her lips, his hands curling around her own to stop her movements.

"I want to touch you, too," she moaned, desperation in her voice. "I need to see you, and touch you. _Please_."

Cullen swallowed. He hadn't planned on allowing this, on taking any pleasure from her beyond what he gave, but if she wanted it–nay, if she _needed_ it, he couldn't refuse. After a moment, he nodded, releasing her hands. In seconds she had his trousers down to his knees, and his cock in her hands. Cullen moaned into her mouth at the feeling of her soft, delicate fingers stroking his aching shaft. Curling his hands around her face, he kissed her harder, stroking his tongue over her own as she sucked on his lower lip. Her hands moved gently, teasingly over his cock, caressing him, tracing the veins. When her light fingers cupped his sac, he bucked uncontrollably forward, the broad head sliding along the smooth skin of her stomach.

Breaking their kiss, Elena began teasing her way down his body, pausing to kiss his nipples, his abdomen, the harsh vee of muscle cutting down his hips. Cullen gazed down at her, his breath catching in his throat. Elena was crouched on her hands and knees before him, her long red hair spread along her back and spilling down her shoulders around her face. She gazed up at him, blatant adoration in her glassy eyes. She nuzzled his hip, her lips and nose brushing against the base of his cock and his aching balls. With another heated look, she ghosted her lips along his length, until her mouth hovered over the tip. A mischievous smirk playing on her lips, she traced her tongue over the flared edge of his crown, lapping up precum and teasing his slit.

Cullen fought to keep his eyes open, so that he could watch her explore his manhood, so that he could see the eager expression on her lovely face. She leaned forward and sucked at him like she might suck on a sweet, her lush lips making an obscene and erotic frame for his shaft. All he wanted to do was bury his hands in her hair and thrust forward, until he was fully seated down her throat. Summoning up the last shreds of his discipline, he restrained himself, instead waiting with anticipation to see what she would do next.

Elena began to work her lips down his shaft, her hand stroking in time from the base upwards. Her tongue swirled around him, tracing the veins as she moved farther and farther along his cock. Each lap of her tongue was another burst of pleasure scorching down his body. Tilting his head back, Cullen moaned, his fingers finally curling into her hair, pulling it away from her face so he could see her better. She began to rub her legs together, seeking out relief. At her movements, an idea struck him.

"Elena, sweet, wait," he murmured, slowly pulling away from her.

She looked up at him, her expression somewhere between a sensual pout and real displeasure. "But I want–"

Cullen lifted her, cutting off her words as he maneuvered their bodies, until he lay flat across his back, her sweet, wet entrance hovering over his mouth while she sprawled down his chest and abdomen, her face just above his cock. She seemed confused as to why he moved her, and she hesitated to see what he would do next. Desperate for the heat of her mouth around him again, Cullen spread her desire slicked lips and began licking her gently. Over the swell of her pert ass, he saw her throw her head back, a groan falling from her lips.

"Taste me again," he ordered gently.

She wrapped her hand around his cock once more, stroking him lazily as she ran her tongue over the tip. He moaned into her wet cunt, the feeling of her hot mouth wrapped around his aching shaft almost too much. Elena continued exploring him, licking along his length, lapping the broad crown, suckling gently at his ballocks. Her soft, full breasts pressed just blow his heart. Cullen gripped her ass, massaging her pert cheeks as he buried his face between her thighs. From the way she undulated atop him, her hips rocking back and forth across his face as his tongue sought out her sweet, honeyed flesh, he knew she was once again close.

Gently, he began to rock his hips towards her sweet mouth, this cock throbbing to plunge deep inside of her. Elena gave him as much pleasure as she took, her lips sliding further down his length in their new position. Her hands gripped his thighs, nails digging into his muscles as she sucked him down, her nose brushing against his sac. Cullen groaned, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the burning lust sweeping over his body. Pressing two fingers into her tight sheath, he began suckling her clit in earnest, desperate to taste her release on his tongue the same moment she tasted his. Her body began to shake over his, her hips rolling in a desperate rhythm with his hands and mouth.

"Elena, I'm going to–" he started, hoping to warn her of the seed rising up his aching shaft.

She moaned, sucking hard at his cock and taking him deep. Cullen buried his face against her soaking entrance, his moans of pleasure turned into frantic lapping as he came in powerful hot spurts. Whiteness exploded across his vision at the intensity of their shade pleasure. She drank his seed, moaning around his cock as her release flooded his mouth.

Cullen rolled them onto their sides, curling her body more tightly around him as he wrung every last drop of pleasure form her, all the while his hips thrusting into her soft, willing mouth. With a final gasp and obscene pop, Elena relinquished his cock, resting her head against his thigh. As he gazed down at her, Cullen felt a swell of pride in his chest at the soft, sated smile curling over her lips. Mindful to be gentle, he pulled her up so that she lay next to him, her head resting on his chest.

"Sleep, now," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Your body must be exhausted." He knew his certainly was **.**

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 **Comments, Questions, Constructive Criticism? Please PM or Review!**


	2. Chapter 2

Sometime later, Cullen awoke. Elena still slept at his side, her head pillowed by his chest and her leg thrown over his hips. Though the fire had smoldered low in the hearth, he could still see a touch of that feverish flush on her cheeks, and he assumed she was not yet better. Not that he minded–if he was being perfectly honest with himself. Being with her had been _euphoric_.

Closing his eyes and breathing in deep, he played the past few hours over in his mind's eye. Sweet Andraste, surely this was a dream? Had Lady Trevelyan truly been so wild and willing in his bed? He would have never believed such a thing could happen. And a small part of him never wanted to leave their chamber. Forget the world–he wanted to say in this twilight realm with his lover as they learned each other's bodies.

His stomach rumbled loudly, breaking into his thoughts. With a groan, he flung his forearm over his eyes, waiting to see if Elena would wake from the sound. She shifted in her sleep, nuzzling closer to him, but her eyes stayed closed. Surely though, if he was famished, she must be doubly so. Cullen couldn't imagine Cassandra, Dorian, or Varric had had much luck getting her to eat anything.

Then it would be up to him to feed her.

Easing out of bed so not to wake her, Cullen searched the floor for his trousers. After pulling them on, he headed for the door. He eased it open, glancing around the private dining room for sustenance. Instead he met Dorian's amused smirk and Cassandra's carefully guarded stare. Varric leapt out from behind the door, a guilty look on his face.

"Curly, so you live! I trust things are going…" Varric paused, taking in Cullen's state of undress and no doubt wild hair. "well."

Cullen raised an eyebrow. "Were you listeningat the door, Varric?"

"You wound me with your distrust," Varric replied, placing a hand over his heart. "Despite the fact that I could make a fortune in Orlais with a story like this, I wouldn't dream of eavesdropping on you and Choir Girl in there."

Cullen glared, but before the dwarf could defend himself further, he cleared his throat, "is there any food? I'm not sure when she last ate…"

He trailed off, a blush rising to his face when he envisioned the last thing she'd had in her mouth.

"We just sent for dinner," Cassandra replied. "It should be up shortly."

Though her tone was guarded, Cullen could tell she was dying to ask what had happened. He knew the Seeker well enough to know that the soft romantic side she hid from the world would be eager to hear of any amorous developments between members of the Inquisition–especially him and Elena. Cassandra had noticed his fixation on the Herald before, surely it wouldn't be lost on her how easily Cullen was loosing his heart.

"How is she?" Dorian asked, eyebrow cocked and breaking into Cullen's thoughts.

Cullen rubbed the back of his neck, unsure how to answer. "Sleeping, at the moment."

A heavy silence filled the room as Cass and Dorian exchanged a meaningful look; Cass slightly smug and Dorian irritated. Cullen shifted on his feet, anxious, it seemed to get back to the woman asleep in his bed and away from their nosy companions. A moment before he was about to give up on food, the door opened and two kitchen elves appeared.

Cullen grabbed a tretcher, ignoring the look the others were giving him. He filled it with warm rolls, cheese, fruits and a few cuts of meat, unsure what Elena liked or even if she'd be willing to eat. With a final glance back at his companions, he reentered the bedroom. As the door swung closed, he could here the excited whisperings behind him, but he ignored them.

He had something more important to see to.

Elena was sitting up in bed, a frantic look on her face. When she saw him framed in the doorway, her expression relaxed and she let the sheet drop from her body, revealing her gorgeous breasts. Cullen felt his breath hitch in his throat at the sight of her creamy skin and pink nipples, and he had to use all of his concentrate to not drop the food.

She crooked her finger towards him, and began crawling across the bed, her hips and shoulders rolling in a sensuous rhythm as she moved, "I thought you left me."

Her voice was pouty, plaintive, but he could detect a hint of real panic underlying her words. The glassy haze still clouded her eyes, but Cullen thought her gaze might have been a touch more clear than it had been the night before. As if on their own accord, his feet brought him to the edge of the bed. Leaning forward, she pressed a chaste kiss to his stomach, and gazed up at him.

Cullen reached down and cupped her chin, his finger stroking along her jaw. "I wouldn't leave you, sweetheart. But I do need you eat something."

She frowned and shook her head. "The only thing I want to taste is your glorious, thick cock."

 _Maker preserve me_ , he thought as lust throbbed through his body, his cock hardening at her words. Setting the tretcher down on the side table, he gingerly sat next to her, trying his best to arrange his trousers so that his erection wasn't so apparent.

He took her face between his hands again, his thumb stroking over her bottom lip. "Would you please eat for me?"

She pouted. "Don't you want to fuck me again?"

Cullen fixed her with the stare he usually reserved for unruly recruits–a look that said he was to be obeyed in all things. She stared back at him, her look defiant. In her state, he knew the only way to get through to her was with seduction.

"I need you to keep up your strength," he murmured before leaning forward to brush his lips over the edge of her ear. "I know your lush body can only take so much pleasuring before you need to rest. Let me take care of you. Let me feed you."

He felt a tremble run through her at his words, her breath hitching in her throat. She turned to him, flickering her Fade-green eyes up to his golden gaze as she bit her bottom lip. After a moment, she nodded.

Smiling to himself, Cullen sat up against the headboard of the bed and tucked her between his outstretched legs, so that her back was flush to his chest. She fit against him perfectly. With patience and soft, gentle kisses as incentive, he fed her bite after bite of food. With playful tongue and wicked lips, she sucked and nipped at his fingers, causing him to think of her sweet mouth wrapped around his cock once more. He stifled a groan, but couldn't stop his shaft from growing rock hard. She surely felt it, because soon she was squirming against him, rubbing her pert ass hard against his erection, her hands and nails trailing up and down his thighs.

"Cullen," she whispered between bites of bread and cheese. "I need you."

Taking a deep breath, he pressed his face to the side of her neck, inhaling her sweet scent. A lightness that he hadn't felt in a long time flooded through him. "You have no idea how long I've waited to hear those words from you, sweetheart."

"So take me–have your way with me. Make me yours," she encouraged, wiggling against him.

"I want to, but–"

Elena rocked forward so that she was on her hands and knees, her legs spread wide enough that Cullen had the perfect view of her. _Holy Maker in Heaven_. She arched her back, raising her hips and cast him a wanton look over her shoulder. Cullen bit his lip and moaned as she reached beneath herself and began stroking her pink folds with expert fingers.

"Cullen," she gasped, two slim fingers disappearing inside of her for a moment. "Cullen, this is what I did for _hours_ while I waited for you to come to me. It's nothing compared to you."

 _Fuck, fuck, FUCK_. He wanted nothing more than to plunge himself into her and fuck her until she couldn't walk, until her voice was hoarse from screaming his name. Until she was ruined for all other lovers. Lust shot through him from head to toe as he watched her; he could see she was wet, soaking wet, and probably hot and tight as well. Maker he wanted her, he'd never wanted anything so badly in his life.

But would she ever want him if that loathsome desire demon hadn't gotten her claws into her? And what would she think of him when she finally broke out of her maddened state? Could he trust himself–trust her–to take her? His cock ached with want, and he realized he was moaning with her as she fucked herself with her fingers.

"Cullen, please," she half pleaded, half moaned.

With a curse, he reared up on his his knees and gripped her hips, pulling her back, so her pert, round ass was flush with his cock. She sprawled before him, shoulders pressed to the bed, hips raised scalding hot against him. Cullen's moans joined Elena's as she rubbed herself shamelessly against his thick erection. He stretched his body over hers, his legs spread wide, this length slotting against the warm, inviting heat of her sheath.

"Is this what you want?" He whispered at her ear, his tongue flicking out to taste her skin just below, his words punctured with a roll of his hips.

"Yes! Cullen, yes," Elena panted under him, her hypersensitive body writhing against him in the best way.

"You want me inside of you?" He murmured, covering her arms with his and drawing them above their heads. "You want my cock?"

" _Please_."

Brushing a soft kiss against her cheek, Cullen reached between them and positioned the broad head of his cock at her entrance. He took a deep breath, steadying himself for the heaven that awaited him.

"Cullen," Elena whispered, the fingers of both her hands curling tight around his other hand.

With a sure, swift thrust of his hips, Cullen filled her, stretching her sheath until he was planted up to the hilt. Elena let out a guttural moan, and Cullen's eyes rolled back in his head as her tight, silken heat enveloped him. He gripped her hip, fingers bruisingly hard on her skin, and began pounding into her. Pleasure unlike he'd ever known shot straight through his body, spreading out from his core, until every inch of his skin tingled. Cullen looked down at the woman moving beneath him, another wave of pleasure crashing over him at the sight of Elena on her knees, hips rolling as she tried to take every last inch of him inside of her, her hot cunt squeezing him tight with each thrust. The sounds of their bodies joining filled the air, mingling with their moans and the musky scent of their lovemaking.

He wanted to kiss her–he felt as if he would die if her plump lips weren't on his that instant. Rising up and wrapping his fist in her hair, Cullen jerked her head back, his other hand cupping her throat as he sealed his mouth over hers. Elena moaned into his kiss, her mouth opening, inviting him deeper, always deeper; he pressed forward, tasting the words hidden beneath her tongue, his lips demanding against her own.

He took her hard, _wild_ , with no fear or inhibition between them–nothing between them, just the sensuous slide of sweat slicked skin against skin, the rustle of her silken hair against his chest, the warmth of her beneath him.

Cullen could tell she was close from the way her perfect cunt tightened around him, but he wanted to see her face when she came. Breaking the string of kisses he had been painting along her shoulder blades, he pulled out. A high, bereft wail of protest tore from her throat, but he easily flipped her onto her back and covered her body with his own. Electricity seemed to tingle over every inch of him that touched her. Gripping her legs just behind her knees, Cullen yanked her legs around his waist and drove inside of her. Elena's back arched, her arms flying around his neck where he nails dug into his skin.

"Yes! CULLEN. Harder!" She demanded, meeting each of his thrusts with a sensuous roll of her hips.

"As you wish," he rasped, eager to fulfill her every desire.

Glancing up, he gripped the footboard above their heads, and thrust. Using the wood as leverage, he slammed into her again and again. Each slide of his cock stoking his lust and pleasure higher. She began to babble between moans, nonsense words urging him on, telling him he was perfect.

"Don't stop! Please don't stop. Oh Cullen! You, you! You're my everything! Cullen–Cullen–Cullen!"

He could feel his release rising, burning hot and insistent at the base of his cock.

"Touch yourself, Sweet," he growled, sweat beading his brow as he continued thrusting deep and hard into her perfect body. "Show me how you make that pretty cunt come."

Hands shaking, she reached between the bodies and began to stroke herself. Cullen watched, entranced, as she rubbed her pearl while his cock sank into her, just below her hand, again and again. He couldn't hold on much longer, the image of her below him, her perfect breasts bouncing, was almost too much. He bent his head, his mouth wrapping around a pert nipple, suckling her deep into his mouth. He teeth scraped over her bud and Elena's body tensed–with a scream she came, her body clenching around him, drawing him deep into her tight heat. Her nails scratching along his back as she locked her legs tight around his hips.

Eyes squeezed shut and face buried in her chest, Cullen came with a mighty shout, his hot seed pulsing deep inside of her.

Breathing heavily and body shaking, he collapsed on top of Elena, nuzzling her neck and placing soft kisses against her sweat slicked skin. After a moment, Cullen rolled them onto their sides, and still deep inside of her and arms around each other, they drifted into sleep.

* * *

For Elena, time passed in a haze of need and relief, only to have that burning need rise up higher and more demanding than before. She ate when Cullen pressed food to her lips and slept when she'd come so many times her body was exhausted. She cared for nothing but her golden Commander–him taking her in the bed, on the floor, up against the wall, again and again. Exploring each other's bodies and desires in the dim light of the chamber. His name was constantly on her lips, just as his taste was in her mouth. Sweat or cum, she licked it off his body like it was the sweetest wine. His fingers knew just where to touch her, his mouth and tongue unlocking pleasure hidden deep within her body. There was nothing beyond the four walls of their room, beyond their bed, their bodies joined in ecstasy.

She was safe, protected. _Loved_.

And then like early morning mist in bright sunlight, her desire suffused haze melted away.

* * *

Cullen stroked his fingers down Elena's back as she rocked above him, the water in their tub sloshing onto the stone floor as they bathed together. Her legs wrapped around his waist, his cock buried deep inside her body, eyes locked on each other as they came.

Maker, she was glorious. Her red hair surrounding her like a halo of fire, her lush body so soft and pliable. She fit against him perfectly and responded to him like no other woman ever had. He needed her just as badly as she needed him, he was sure of it.

Cullen's head fell back, eyes closed as his release burned through him. Elena gripped his shoulders, her nails scouring his skin as his name fell from her lips again and again. Her head fell forward, resting against his shoulder as she breathed deeply and Cullen held her close, his arms wrapping around back as he trailed his fingers over her silken skin.

The moment stretched on, and he found himself enjoying the intimacy of simply holding her to him. Yet, as he brushed his lips across her temple, she stiffened in his arms.

Her head came up, her eyes wide and clear as confusion tinged her voice, "Cullen? What…?"

Fear spread through him when he saw the confusion on her face. Her Fade-green eyes were clear, bright and sparkling as they used to be. _Cured. She's cured._

He stared at her in astonishment. Surely this was what he wanted. For the Inquisitor to be better, for her to be able to go back to her duties. But why did he feel as if a block of stone were sitting on his chest? Why had his blood turned to ice?

Elena's gaze widened.

"Oh merciful Andraste!" She shrieked, knifing up from his lap, water spilling everywhere as she scrambled to cover her body.

"Elena, wait, it's alright–" he stammered, rising out of the tub and crossing the room to her.

She was half dressed when he reached her, pulling her into his arms–if he could just _touch_ her, everything would be alright, he thought as he held her to his chest stroking her hair. Everything _had_ to be alright.

"Shh, calm down, sweetheart."

Instead of calming as she might have done moments ago, she pushed against him, his presence only serving to frighten her more. "NO! No, it's not alright! I…we…Oh, Maker. I can't!"

Cullen let her go, at a loss as to what to say or do. He simply watched as she pulled her tunic on and flew out the door, her face red and tears gathering in her eyes. The door slammed behind her, but not before he caught sight of their companions' astonished faces.

Frustration, disappointment, and rage burned through him, clouding his vision until all her saw was red. With wild, angry strikes, Cullen swept the clutter from the table near their bed, reveling in the crash of metal and wood on the ground. With a roar, he flipped the table over and swung his fist at the wall. Pain laced through his wrist and up his forearm and the skin on his knuckles sheered off against the rough stone.

The pain focused him.

 _He had her, she had been in his arms, happy and sated. And then she ran from him._

Breathing heavily, Cullen surveyed the room he had destroyed and swore under his breath. One thing was for certain, he would give Elena space to process what had happened, but he wouldn't let her slip through his fingers. Now that he had had her, he couldn't bare to let her go.

* * *

 **Comments? Questions? Criticism? Please RM or Review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Here's the final chapter! I hope you like it.**

 **NSFW ;)**

* * *

The ride back to Skyhold was tense. Elena wished she could make the journey on her own, but Cassandra would hear none of it–too fearful, it seemed, that the Inquisitor would have a relapse or another calamity would befall her. Instead, they rode in silence, and Elena found that she couldn't look at anyone in the group, especially not Cullen.

She closed her eyes, trusting her mount to follow Cass along the mountain path, and tried to settle her emotions. Instead of the calm she wished for, a rush of hot shame flooded through her.

Maker, she had been depraved; a mindless, relentless sex fiend. The things they had done! She blushed just thinking about the wanton way she'd acted, the demands she'd made of Cullen. Surely he must think the worst of her. Think her weak-willed, or worse, no better than a whore. And the worst part, the absolutely worst part, was that it wasn't even the demon's venom that made that way–she had wanted her Commander long before this. Had spent countless hours watching him train his troops or practice in the tilting ring, admiring his sculpted body and commanding voice. Spent nights fantasizing about that voice telling her exactly what he would with his body.

No, the venom had only made her desires more pressing–more difficult to ignore until her entire body had been screaming for his touch.

Opening her eyes, she resolved to herself right then, as Skyhold loomed on the horizon, that she would do everything in her power to avoid the Commander as much as possible. They would put this embarrassing episode behind them, and continue on as continue on as colleagues–acquaintances, really.

She bit her lip, a frown working over her face. Her resolution left her feeling cold and empty. She knew what it was liked to be held by Cullen– _loved_ by Cullen. And the thought of going back to the way things were left her feeling bereft. Elena shook her head. Still, there as nothing else to be done about it. She would establish walls between them, even if it left her miserable.

* * *

The first few days back at Skyhold weren't as bad as Elena expected. Josie and Leliana had been informed, more or less, about _the Incident_ , and she knew at least the basic details of where she had been had spread to her companions, if not further among Inquisition personnel. But no one dared mention it to her–instead, everyone acted as if she had just been away on a mission as usual.

Exiting the door leading to her bedchamber, she walked into the great hall. A War Council had been called, and she needed to go, but Elena found herself dragging her feet, wanting to avoid being the first in the room on the chance that Cullen arrived before the others. She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment, letting the warm afternoon sun warm her back before she walked through the cavernous chamber. _Cullen_. At first it had been fairly easy for Elena to avoid the Commander. He was embarrassed as well, she thought, and mainly kept to his quarters and the training grounds, which she avoided studiously, sending messengers if she needed to speak with him. She feared, however, that she wouldn't be able to keep her cool facade up–sooner or later she would have to talk with him.

As she passed Varric's table, she caught sight of Dorian and Cassandra, head's bent together, whispering. When they saw her come by, they quickly broke apart. Elena frowned, but didn't have time to stop and ask them what in the name of that Maker that had been about.

Instead, she kept her chin up and ignored the curious looks and mutterings.

Pushing open the heavy doors, Elena was relieved to see everyone _but_ Cullen had arrived.

"Good afternoon, Inquisitor," Josephine greeted. "I hope you're doing well."

Elena, Josie and Leliana exchanged pleasantries for a few moments, before the doors were pushed open once again and Cullen strode into the room. Elena immediately shifted her gaze to the sheaf of reports before her on the table, careful not to catch his eye. If Josie and Leliana noticed her subdued behavior (and if she was being honest with herself, of course they noticed) they didn't say anything.

"Afternoon, ladies," Cullen greeted, taking his customary place on the other side of the table across from Elena. "My apologies for my tardiness."

"No worries, Commander," Leliana chirped, "Josie and I were just remarking to Lady Trevelyan that today's meeting would be short, weren't we, Elena?"

Elena glanced up, eyes cutting to her spymaster. "Yes of course," she paused, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear and desperately trying not to look at Cullen, even though his strong, commanding presence was difficult to ignore in a room otherwise occupied by women. "I believe we only need to discuss Josephine's progress on the peace talks between Ferelden and Orlais."

"And some diplomatic correspondence," Josephine added with a sly smile.

The meeting didn't take terribly long, just as expected. Josephine wrapped up her report on the peace agreements–scheduled to take place between Empress Celene and King Alistair in a few month's time–and began shifting through a few letters.

"Ah yes! Here it is. I have a number of marriage proposals for you, Inquisitor. I've taken the liberty of narrowing it down to two. Of course you don't have to accept either, but these would be…advantageous to both yourself and the Inquisition."

Elena's mouth dropped at the Antivan woman's words. _Marriage proposals?_

"Maker's breath, you're not serious, are you?" Cullen snapped from the other side of the table, startling Elena out of her shocked stupor.

"I never joke about diplomacy, Commander," was Josephine's crisp reply.

Elena cleared her throat, partially hoping to draw everyone's attention back to the task at hand and partially because her mouth had gone terribly try at Josephine's pronouncement.

"Who…who are they from?"

Josephine smiled sweetly. "The first is from Duke Etienne de Montfort–he's Empress Celene's first cousin, which would obviously be advantageous to our current alliance with Orlais. The second is from Prince Sebastian of Starkhaven, which could provide for a wider sphere of influence in the Free Marches, especially with your family and the recent military acquisitions Starkhaven has made in Kirkwall."

Before anyone could say anything, Josephine pulled up another letter. "I also have a proposal for Commander Cullen from Teyrina Anora Mac Tir of Gwaren."

A brittle snapping sound ricochet through the room and it took Elena a moment to realize she had broken the quill that she had been twirling between her fingers as they spoke. The thought of Cullen with another woman–

"I don't know that a marriage alliance would be productive right now," she began.

"Surely we have more important issues to see to!" Cullen ground out just as she began to speak.

Silence followed their remarks and Elena chanced a glance up. Cullen was watching her, his jaw set in determination. A rush of heat spread through her as his golden gaze turned to her, and she quickly dropped her eyes again. Leliana cleared her throat, signally that they should move the discussion forward and wrap the meeting up quickly.

Elena hurried to leave the room, desperate to get away from the scorching look Cullen had given her, away from the knowing expressions of her other advisors. She needed to be alone.

As she made her ways down the still ruined hallway, she felt a gently touch at he elbow. She stopped and looked up, a small gasp leaving her throat when she realized Cullen was towering over her, so close she could smell the warm, masculine scent of him.

"My Lady, we need to speak abou–"

"No Commander, I'm sorry. I have to go," she quickly cut in, panic flooding through her at his nearness.

His hand slid up her arm, sending tingles radiating across her skin as his fingers curled around the back of her neck.

"Don't," he whispered. "Don't hid behind titles. Not with me."

Her eyes widened as he leaned down towards her, and she thought for sure that he would kiss her. With a side-step and a twist, she slipped out from his arms.

"I'm sorry," she threw over her shoulder as raced down the hallway. "I just–I can't."

* * *

It was late–too late to be awake, but yet there she was, staring up at the silk canopy of her bed as the moon climbed across the sky. Her sheets were rumpled from tossing back and forth; every time she closed her eyes, she saw the hurt look in Cullen's eyes at her coldness.

With a sigh of frustration, Elena decided she was hungry, which was surprising as lately she couldn't stomach more than a few bites of anything without thinking about the way Cullen had fed her–memories which brought heat to her face and made her stomach too fluttery for food. All she could think of during a meal were the hard callouses of his fingers brushing against her lips, her tongue, as she sucked something sweet into her mouth.

She shook her head and threw the blankets off, the cold night air immediately feeling good against her heated skin. She could ring for her maid to bring something from the kitchens, but Elena seriously doubted the woman was still awake. She sat up, her feet sliding over the lush carpets covering her stone floor–an expedition to the kitchens were in order.

It was easy enough sneaking down to the great hall, she knew Skyhold as well as her family home, and she was adept at sneaking, after all. Past the guards and down the stairs to the kitchens, she eased the door open and glanced around the cavernous space, making sure none of Cook's helpers were around. The only thing that moved was a candle flame perched above one of the iron stoves.

Crossing the room, she lit a few more, bathing the room in a rosy glow. Embers still smoldered in the oven and Elena quickly added another log to the fire. While she waited for the stove to heat, she busied herself slicing bread, cheese, and turkey. It didn't take long to toast her sandwich. She flipped it onto a wooden plate and turned for the table.

She let out a little scream, almost dropping her sandwich when she saw Commander Cullen standing in the doorway, watching her, his golden eyes warm and liquid in the candle light, his arms crossed over his powerful chest. She pressed her hand to her heart, taking a deep breath.

"Maker, Commander, you frightened me!"

He took a step forward, hands held before him as if to calm her. "I'm sorry–I didn't mean to."

Silence filled the room as they regarded each other. Elena shifted on her feet, nervous energy coursing through her. She had been very careful to avoid this exact scenario–being with Cullen, alone, with little chance of anyone interrupting them. And save for that afternoon, she had been doing well.

She could feel her skin heating as a fresh wave of embarrassment washed over her. Maker, the things they'd done together–even now she could recall the warm, heavy weight of his body over hers, the hot full feeling of him driving deep inside of her. She looked down at her feet, before finally summoning her courage to meet his gaze.

"Was there something you needed?"

Something flashed in his eyes and she saw his jaw tick. After a moment of regarding her with a firm gaze he stepped towards her, looming over her until only her sandwich on its plate was between them. Elena's eyes widened.

"Yes. We need to talk."

 _Well. Shit._ There was certainly nowhere to run now.

"I'm not so sure," she whispered, sounding scared even to herself.

Cullen's gaze softened, making the gold of his eyes liquid and warm. He cupped her jaw, his fingertips just brushing along her skin, and tilted her head up.

"Yes we do, Sweetheart." His voice was soft, as much a caress as it was a promise. "Have you been avoiding me?"

"That's ridiculous! We're both incredibly busy and–"

His eyes narrowed, "let me rephrase that. Why are you avoiding me?"

Elena dropped her gaze, focusing on the sandwich between them. _I should have used Fereldan cheddar…_

"Is it because you regret being intimate with me?" The question was so soft, if they hadn't been so close she wouldn't have hear him.

Her head snapped up at that, eyes widening. _Was he mad?_ Any woman would be crazy not to want him– _She_ had wanted him, and still did, despite trying to keep her distance. Those days spent at the Inn had been _euphoric._

She just wished she hadn't been enchanted when they'd been together. Had he even wanted to be with her? Or was it simply another duty for him to perform?

"It's not that," she murmured, feeling heat crawl up her throat that spread over her cheeks in a blush.

"Then what?" he gently prompted.

"I…" she paused, taking a deep breath and trying to keep the hot tears of shame that pricked at the back of eyes from spilling. "I was–the way I acted. I was an animal. You had to feed me. Bathe me…all I wanted to do was rut, like, like a bitch in heat."

She covered her face with her hands, ignoring the sound of her plate clattering on the stone floor. "I was out of my mind! But you…you did your duty and took care of me. I never want anyone to see me like that. I _hate_ that you've seen me like that. That you were forced to be with me when I was like that!"

The dam of her emotions broke and tear flooded down her cheeks. Cullen's warm arms wrapped around her, but she pushed against him, beating at his chest with her fists.

"I hate it! I hate what that fucking desire demon did to me! I hate her! I hate her! I HATE HER!"

Just as quickly as her anger rose, it depleted, and she slumped against his chest, crying softly as he stroked her hair and rubbed her back. Maker, why did it feel so good to be in his arms? How did he know just how to touch her to make everything feel as if it would be alright? It wasn't fair–she was trying to do the right thing and keep her distance, but everything about him pulled her closer.

"You're wrong you know," he murmured, his voice slightly muffled as he spoke into the crown of her head. "It wasn't duty that compelled me to stay in that room with you. I…I care about you, deeply. I wanted to protect you, care for you. But if I could turn it all back so that it never happened, despite how content I was in that room with you, I would. I would take your pain away if I could."

She looked up at him, surprised by his words. Surprised and not a little bit hopeful. Perhaps this hadn't been a disaster of epic proportions. Perhaps…perhaps something was salvageable between them. The warmth, sincerity, and love in his voice enveloped her, drew her into him, and Elena decided right that second there was nowhere else in Thedas she would rather be.

As if sensing her decision, Cullen gave a slow smile. Cradling her jaw with one hand, he lowered his lips to hers. Just the softest touch of mouth on mouth at first, but then, _oh then_ , he pressed deeper, harder. _Maker's breath_. His kisses were even better when she wasn't in a magic induced haze. Elena gasped against him, her arms twining around his neck of their own accord, pressing her body flush against him so that she could feel his heart as if it beat within her own chest.

In a fluid movement, Cullen lifted her and stepped towards the table, the shatter clay plate crunching under his boots. He set her down, his hips sliding between her thighs, opening her to him, as he caressed her face, her neck, down her shoulders to her breasts. A naughty tweak of her nipple, and his hand moved lower, pushing her nightgown up.

"Cullen," she breathed, raking her fingers through his hair, her other hand scrambling to pull his shirt off.

The warmth of him between her legs, the firm but soft pressure of his lips on hers, his tongue, his hands, all of it was too much. She _needed_ him, need him inside her now that it was just them, no magic, no desire demons, them. She _needed_ and she _wanted_. And by the Maker, she knew he'd give it to her.

His shirt fluttered to the floor, his lips only leaving her's to pull the fabric over his head.

"I tried to give you space," he murmured, kissing a trail of fire down her jaw and throat. "But the thought of you wed to another man–in another man's bed. I _can't_. You're mine."

"Yes," she gasped, arching her back to give him better access to her breasts. "Cullen. I can't stop thinking about having you inside of me. I need it. I need you."

With a growl he pushed her nightshirt past her hips, his rough palms sweeping over her silken thighs. Elena spread her legs farther for him, begging him with her body to touch her once more.

"Ah, sweetheart, you're bare for me," he chuckled when he saw she wasn't wearing anything beneath her shirt.

Not wasting any time teasing her Cullen, began to stroke her slit, his thumb rubbing up and down in gentle strokes until she was mad with want, each passing of his finger sending spirals of lust shooting through her body. He heat clenched for him and she tore at his belt, tugging the laces of his trousers until she could push them past his hips. His cock sprang free and she smiled–he was even better than she remembered from her enchanted haze, bigger, thicker. A pearly drop of precum dotted his broad head, causing Elena to lick her lips as she remembered taking him into her mouth.

Grasping his cock, she gazed up at him. "Take me, Cullen."

In one smooth movement he entered her, a deep, satisfied rumble sounding in his chest. She cried out, her body stretching around his girth, taking every inch he gave her. _Fuck._ It was even better than she remembered. With gentle hands, Cullen framed her face, this thumbs stroking over her cheeks.

"Look at me, Elena. Look at me, Sweetheart," he commanded.

She complied, eyes locked on his as he thrust between her legs, desire and pleasure building deep within her body with every masterful stroke of his cock through her silken heat. She bit her lip, trying to keep her eyes from sliding closed so she could cry out her pleasure.

He caressed her face, stroked his fingers down the turn of her cheek to the tilt of her chin as if creating a portrait in his mind. The soft brush of his hands touching her everywhere, soft, gentle, seeking, stroking. Stoking her pleasure and need higher and hotter until she thought she'd expire.

Elena arched back, laying down across the length of the table. Cullen hooked his hands under her knees, pulling her tight against him and holding her hips up as he pounded into her, his gaze locked on hers all the while. She ran her fingers down his chest, stroked his hard muscles and the raised ridges of old scars. She had been wound so tight for days and was close, _so close_ , just from having him inside of her. When his thumb brushed against her clit, she saw stars.

With a cry, she came, her body clenching around him, legs shaking, drawing his cock deep inside of her. Cullen held her gaze until the very last moment, his eyes squeezing shut as he let out a ragged gasp, and she felt his cock throb deep inside of her as he came, flooding her with warmth.

Breathing heavily, Cullen rested his forehead against her own, his warm breath ghosting over her cheek.

"No more avoiding me," he murmured, brushing a kiss across her jaw.

She nodded, stroking his back. "No more avoiding you."

"And you sleep in my bed from now on," he continued, nuzzling against her.

She nodded, adding, "and no more talk of arraigned marriages."

Cullen chuckled, pulling away for a moment before sweeping her into his arms so that her bare feet wouldn't be cut on the broken pottery scattered across the floor. "Something tells me Josephine won't be bringing it up again."

Elena laughed and threw her arms around his neck, content to be in his arms once more as he carried her off to bed. Joyful to be with the man who would always be at her side, mist or sun.

* * *

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